This is a serious record, in every way. It’s serious music, with serious chords and serious arrangements, written about serious things, sung by a serious artist who takes herself seriously. For reference, look to Nick Cave’s gothic crooning, with a touch of Florence And The Machine’s theatricality.
The ten songs on Anna Calvi’s debut release draw on an eclectic musical repertoire that shipwrecks an understanding of classical music against an imposing mesh of blues, West African rhythms and flamenco’s sexual bravado. Indeed, sexuality is omnipresent on this record: both through Calvi’s unfettered vocal style and her subject matter. And, seemingly, it’s come from nowhere; her only previous release was her debut single, a theatrically-charged cover of the already extremely theatrical Edith Piaf cover of Wayne Shanklin’s Jezabel.
The strident note she started on continues throughout the ten songs on this record. By turns pleading, judgmental, angry and placating, but always passionate, this record’s greatest strength is also its downfall. After an entire record of PJ Harvey-esque elemental passion (the record was co-produced by Rob Elli, who has worked with Harvey for two decades), it’s easy to get tired of it. All the yelling makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong and are in trouble.
That said, like Xanax, taken in small doses this record is a wonderful way to spend the evening.
Best track: Desire
If You Like These, You’ll Like This: Lungs FLORENCE & THE MACHINE, Anything by PJ HARVEY before she turned into backward-looking parody of herself.
In A Word: Sepulchral (not Sepultura; that’s different)
